Warm Me Up
by MissMahjong
Summary: Sherlock and John are freezing in their hotel room, due to the power going out, cutting off the heat. They sleep in the same bed but in the middle of the night, John gets a lovely surprise. Slash, Johnlock, Top!lock, yay!


Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they all belong to their respective creators.

~ Warm Me Up

He couldn't take much more of the sound of his own chattering teeth,

"Sherlock, if we d-d-d-don't d-do anything, we w-w-will die of hypothermia."

They were sitting on separate chairs, trying in vain to warm their selves in the hotels blankets. Only about thirty minutes ago, the power went off in the entire complex, so now they were both shivering in the cold of their room. They were staying at a hotel in Surrey, where they investigating a case. Their room, with the lights on, was quite cozy and warm looking, they were seated in the living room with a kitchenette and two bedrooms on either side of this homey suite.

"Y-you're right, we should go to bed."

"Y-yeah."

"You know what I'm implying."

"Yeah, been sitting here, coming to terms with the idea."

"And?"

"We've got no other choice, if we're going to survive the night."

They both knew what had to be done and they moved towards one of the bedrooms, trying not to stumble in the dark, the light of their phones guiding them. They both put the blankets they used for vain warmth on top of the bed, hoping the double effect would help in warming them when they got in. What john didn't expect was Sherlock, getting undressed until he was in his grey boxers, which were very short for being male boxers.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking off my clothes."

"We were just going to sleep next to each other, with our clothes on."

"John, you're a doctor, you should know that with out direct contact, skin to skin, we can't share body heat."

Sherlock got in the bed, embracing the comfort the bed and double blankets had to offer. John pierced his lips together, knowing Sherlock was right but hoping that he really didn't have to do it, take off his clothes just to get through the night, but the cold was callous and unforgiving, he gave up. Shredding every article of clothing until he, too was in his boxers, green boxers and joined Sherlock in bed, under the covers and oh was it sublime, the plush softness of the bed and heavy feeling to the double blankets was nice. But some nervousness brought him back to the present, he soon felt Sherlock move a bit closer and forced him self to meet him in the middle of the bed, where they some how, awkwardly managed to cuddle, embracing each other, hissing at some of the cold skin contact but meeting body to body, skin to skin and began to feel the warmth. John tucked himself under chin, face flushing from the intimacy of it all.

"**This**, does not leave the room, understand?"

"As you wish."

The warmth of Sherlock's body and under the covers lulled John to sleep, with the soft snoring of Sherlock in his ears.

* * *

John woke up feeling warm, with groggy eyes trying to focus his vision but he was warm and comfortable under the covers. The warmth wasn't your typical warm and cozy snug bug feeling but had a sensual underlining to it. With a sleep-fuddled brain, he couldn't place it and fell in between the realms of sleep and awareness. Drowsy consciousness was soon upon him as he felt that sensual warmth on his skin, slip through and effect his stomach and loins with gentle fluttering and tingles. The tingling on his skin felt pleasant as he was lying on his right side, feeling a wall of warmth from behind him although he couldn't remember what, or rather, who was there.

The tingles on his torso were that of hands, masculine hands with long calloused fingers that travelled the contours of his stomach and chest. The lingering touches magnified by the lack of John's sense of sight since his eyes were closed, just feeling and sighing, these caresses were nice. Then John felt lips, kissing the back of his neck, soft and gentle kisses, slowly making there way behind his left ear and to the side of his neck. This brought John mind out sleep as he tried to remember whose lips and hand he felt. He then remembered that he was with Sherlock, on a case and they were sharing a bed due to the power going out at the hotel and they needed to keep warm on this cold night.

It was Sherlock's hand that was feeling him up, it was Sherlock's body he was pressed against and it was Sherlock's lips that were giving him soft and yet seductive kisses along his neck.

The warmth slowly turned into a sexual heat as John responded by placing his hand on top of Sherlock's roaming hand and guiding the brunette where he wanted to be touched. John could've stopped this, he could've made a big deal or shout at the man to stop but he didn't. John surprised himself on realizing how much he wanted this, this private hot intimacy that was being tiptoed around when both men were awake. That and the fact that it's been a while since he's been with a woman and now, feeling the preliminary pleasures of what Sherlock can give made him not want to go back. He turned his head, tired eyes squinting in the dark.

"Sherlock?"

"John."

John then felt the detective's lips on his own, moving them to gain a reaction and it worked, John kissed him back. The languid kiss deepened when tongues got involved, hot wet muscles moving against each other, tasting and massaging, taking time to explore with heated puffs of breath warming their faces. Sherlock moved his way to be on top of John, embracing him and still kissing him while the dirty blond wrapped his arms around the brunette moving his hands to feel the marvelous expanse of Sherlock's back. The only sound between them was the slick wet sounds of their dancing tongues and low moans of pleasure as they kissed and touched each other.

They continued their kissing, slow, passionate and the way it felt was some how taboo and at the same time felt, in every sense of the word, right. John never felt so turned on before, which felt deliciously hot when Sherlock was this close and intimate with him. Hands roamed, the dirty blond felt Sherlock's hands on all over him while his own hands felt smooth skin over lean muscles of shoulders, back, abdomen and feeling brave, John slid his hands over the brunette's ass cheeks and squeezed. The detective gasped into the doctor's mouth at the sensation, pressing his pelvis onto the man below him. Hands continued to travel, Sherlock reached down, removing John's boxers and gripping his length and moving it languidly; John reached down to pull Sherlock's boxers down, bringing his hard length against the brunette's. Sherlock held their cocks in together in one hand, pumping them slowly but John want the man's arms around him.

The room they were in was freezing but under the covers, the air was sweltering, reminisce of a sauna, with long drawn out kisses, bodies sweating from their own heat, trying to get the pleasurable friction, the gradual motion of their coupling mimicking the ocean tides. No words were spoken, either of them not wanting to break the dark sensual stupor they were in; but they couldn't hold back the pants, soft moans and whimpers. With lust filled eyes, John observed Sherlock above from, committing to memory the way the detective looked, his eyes having adjusted in the dark. John gazed at the brunette's mouth, the cupids bow of his upper lip and the thick bottom lip, open and breathing. The doctor then gazed at the detective's eyes, matching lust filled eyes, meeting John's own, making him feel vulnerable and yet confident about having the brunette's attention on him. John reached up to feel Sherlock's curls, bringing his new lover close for another round of kissing, feeling more than seeing the flushed cheeks on the detective's face.

How much time they spent leisurely rutting against each other, they didn't know but they felt the building pleasure coil within them selves as they moved together to reach release. Soon, they went over the edge, feeling their orgasm overwhelm the both of them with star striking white-hot heat waves pulsing and electric; the climax hitting John, forcing the man to throw his head back, making it pop out from the covers, gasping for air and warm breath visible in the ice cold room. Sherlock moved to lay down close to john, bring the double blankets to cover both of their heads, were they lazily kissed, snuggling into each other and falling asleep again, neither one of them caring about the mess on their stomachs or fixing their boxers.

* * *

**Author's Note:** It was a really cold night when this idea came to me, review if you want.


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